Did They Give You A Name
by fringeperson
Summary: Set in the same universe as Avengers on Sesame Street, but earlier in the time-line. When Bucky Met Darcy. Well, when Bucky, Steve, and Sam met Darcy. Sam found a fellow Troll, and Steve lamented that there were two of them. Looking between his friends and Darcy though, he wasn't sure which one she was the duplicate of... Oneshot, Complete, Don't Own.


"So, did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?" Darcy asked in her best impression of Meg from Disney's _Hercules_. She'd never be as willowy as the cartoon femme, but she did have the curves and the long brown curls.

Meg was Darcy's favourite Disney (not really a) Princess. In Darcy's opinion, Meg had it up on almost all the other Disney heroines who had existed before her in that she actually had the life experience.

Though, granted, there had been a couple of really kick-ass ones since, and Esmerelda had just squeezed in ahead, which was why it was 'almost all' and not just 'all'.

So many of the girls in the princess crew had a driving force of wanting 'more' in some way, shape, or form. Meg, on the other hand, had already had her adventure, and her 'happily ever after', and it hadn't worked out in her favour. She was not an innocent teenager looking for more. She was a jaded adult (eighteen would definitely qualify as adult in Ancient Greece, and that's only if she wasn't the older of her and Hercules), making do and desperately trying to fix – and not repeat – her mistakes.

She was a grown woman making the best of her bad situation, with a boss that she didn't like and co-workers that she liked even less than that. Apart from the fact that the boss was Hades and the co-workers were imps, it really was the most realistic, relate-able situation.

Also? Greek family on her mother's side, so even though the legend was butchered almost beyond recognition for the sake of Disney plot, Darcy really didn't care – and some day, she was going to get a pair of purple contact lenses in her prescription.

There were three men standing before her, and any one of them could have been worthy of that quote alone. Together? There were a lot of rippling pectorals.

The blonde one, with the same sort of proportions as... pretty much every Hercules ever (apart from the gone-to-seed one in _Class of the Titans_ , but there was Harry to make up for that) stammered.

"Uh-huh, ah-ha, I'm – ah..."

Oh, that was just perfect, and judging from the smirk that Hot Chocolate was fighting back, not to mention the challengingly raised eyebrow, he _wanted_ her to do the appropriate follow up.

And who was Darcy to deny a chance to do the follow up line for realzies?

"Are you always this articulate?" she teased.

"Around a classy dame?" checked the handsomely scruffy brunet, a devilish smirk on his face as bright blue eyes switched back and forth between the blond and Darcy. "This is about standard for what I remember of the punk – and no, they didn't give me one. They called _him_ Captain America though," he added with a nod to his stuttering friend.

"Mr USA himself, huh?" Darcy said, and gave him a considering once-over. "Sorry sweetheart, but it's gentlemen that prefer blondes. I'm neither, and I get the feeling you might be both."

Spluttering overtook him again.

"Sam Wilson," offered Hot Chocolate as he extended his hand to shake, grin on his face and shoulders (oh, the shoulders) shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

"Sam, huh? Think I prefer Hot Chocolate," Darcy kept going, even as she accepted the hand and shook it.

A full lower lip was pulled back and clamped down on by a set of pearly whites as he shook his head. Yep, definitely fighting back laughter. It looked like she had a fellow Disney fan. Awesome-sauce.

With one last wink at the man, Darcy turned her attention back to the blue-eyed brunet who looked like he was hiding a killer jaw beneath that scruff.

"So, if you haven't got a name, can I pick one out for you?" she asked.

"Doll, you can call me anything you like," he said with a crooked little smile that was clearly just for her. "But, apparently, not a gentleman," he added, as he looked her up and down just the same way she'd done to Captain America.

Darcy grinned at that, and held out her hand to him to shake.

Which he didn't. Instead, he turned it over, caressed her fingers with his thumb, and kissed – actually kissed, not just bussing the air there – the back of her hand.

"Flirt," Darcy decided, but there was no way she was keeping a straight face. At least she was fairly confident that she wasn't blushing. "You are hereby dubbed TDH Flirt, until you find a name that you prefer."

"TDH?" he and Hot Chocolate repeated, confused. Mr USA just mouthed it, no sound coming out.

"Stands for Tall, Dark and Handsome, but that's a mouthful, so, TDH," Darcy explained with a red-painted smirk.

TDH Flirt grinned up at her, which was impressive considering he was taller than her, and it was somehow sharp at the same time as being boyishly innocent. Darcy could tell right away, that smile was going to be so much trouble. So, so much trouble.

"You should see him clean shaven," Mr USA quipped lowly.

"Aha! You _can_ talk!" Darcy accused brightly – finger pointed and all, though with the hand that wasn't still being held by Flirt – which promptly sent him back to stammering and blushing.

"So, if I'm TDH Flirt, does that mean I get to call you Gorgeous Dame all the time?" he countered, eyes bright and smile earnest. "You still haven't told us your name, Miss Dame."

"My name, Mr Flirt, is Darcy Lewis," she answered as she reclaimed her hand from him and set both onto cocked hips. "Recently installed CEO of and PR Manager for The Avengers et al, Ldt. Congratulations boys, your very tight tushies are mine hereafter."

"CEO of -?" Hot Chocolate asked, surprise and confusion written across his handsome face. "Two questions. One: how's that work? And two: how's a person get a job like that anyway?"

"It works because it has to, unless you like the idea of living out of Tony's pocket. It's not a bad place to live, but he gets... proprietary," Darcy explained delicately.

"And the other thing?" Hot Chocolate prompted.

"I filed all the initial paperwork," Darcy answered with a shrug, "and then continued to file, filter, and funnel the paperwork that came after. Officially, I _own_ The Avengers et al, Ltd. Which is you guys, Tony, Thor, a few others. Your image is mine to raise to lofty heights or drag through the mud, and I can get on every- and anybody's case if they say anything derogatory or untrue. It makes you guys legal, rather than vigilante, and prevents any governmental bodies from stepping up and saying things like -" she put on a frowny face and lowered her voice to what she dubbed 'angry father pitch'. "'You need to be controlled!'"

Flirt frowned with his whole face. It was adorable. Seriously, like a child who hasn't learned how to filter and mask emotions. Actually, he'd had a pretty open face the whole way through the conversation.

"Can they do that?" he asked.

"Without the nice business label and civilian-in-charge?" Darcy checked, slipping back out of the over-done character and into her own self again. "They might try it, and probably sooner than later, depending on who you make twitchy. With it though, with a contract in place, they can't touch you," she assured him. "Speaking of which, if you gentlemen would follow me to my office, we need to make it all legal and official," she added, and turned with a wave over her shoulder for them to follow her.

She smiled to herself as they fell in behind her, all very precise, military march following after her swaying hips and the decisive _click_ of her low-heeled boots on the hard floor.

"I'm open to negotiation on any points of the contract, but so far everybody who has read it through hasn't asked for any changes to be made," Darcy said when they reached her office and produced three copies of the 'hero' contract she had. As opposed to the 'scientist' contract, or the standard employment contract for the plebs like medical legal, accounting, janitorial, etcetera.

When she turned around, she was very pleased to see that all three men were staring around her office in surprised wonder. Well, Hot Chocolate was less awed, but he probably had more experience of what modern offices could look like. He still looked pretty impressed though.

Darcy herself was rather pleased with the big poster she had made herself and hung on the back wall behind her desk. It said: _I am not River Tam. I cannot Kill You with my Brain. I am Darcy Lewis. There are Worse Things than Death_. That poster hung over the truly beautiful cutlass her uncle had gifted her about a week after the Dark Elf incident – which, unlike what happened in New Mexico, SHEILD hadn't been able to cover up.

Then again, it might have been her large collection of customised Nerf guns, along with all their ammo, that lined another of her office walls that had them so impressed.

"Can you use all these?" Mr USA asked as he inspected her black-and-silver Nerf Maverick.

Mr Flirt was ghosting his hand less than an inch away from her Longshot, which she'd painted up to look like a proper rifle – except for the orange tip, as with all of her Nerfs.

"They're toy guns, modified to fire better, but still toys. Of course I can use them," Darcy answered plainly as she handed out the contracts. "I go to war against Clint with them every April, have since I met him out in New Mexico when Thor first touched down. Can we get back to your contracts though, please? I don't have to have them signed today, you can take your time to read over them, but before the end of the week, if you could."

"Yes Ma'am," the trio of handsome men agreed.

~The End~


End file.
